


Take A Bow

by FunkyinFishnet



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Love, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Relationship(s), Royalty, Trials
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 05:59:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10299179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunkyinFishnet/pseuds/FunkyinFishnet
Summary: Tauriel has been a prisoner in Erebor since returning a gravely-wounded Kili after the battle. Now finally she is permitted to stand before the Dwarven court and tell her truth; to save her life, to show why she wants to stay.





	

 

 

 

Tauriel is left alone. She knows this is deliberate and is silently amused by this action of the Dwarves. They taunt and mock her for a composure that is judged cold and strange yet expect her to react in the manner they would if so treated at an Eleven court. Tauriel does not mock. She is conscious she could be being watched so her face shows no discomfort, fear or upset. She is merely waiting, content to do so.

 

Of course she is not comfortable surrounded by stone. Her home will always be in forest and woodland; she cannot change the essence of who she is. Kili would not ask her to, any more than she would tell him to abandon his mountain and mines. He is a prince but he has worked at forges and in mines and has blisters and scarred hands. It is impossible to imagine Legolas in such a way. She tucks away that pain.

 

There is the rise and fall of Dwarven voices in the great hall of Erebor and soon enough the doors open, bringing a wave of heat and louder noise. Tauriel does not flinch and she does not step forward. She waits to be commanded so.

 

There is a fraught moment of silence as she keeps her eyes lowered, then a quiet murmur throughout the crowds of Dwarves that fill the hall for this meeting, this challenge to Tauriel. Tauriel’s heart beats quickly, like a pursued deer, a startled crow. She has prepared for this but she is not foolish enough to believe she is ready. None of this shows on her face. She waits.

 

Then a voice.

 

“Captain Tauriel of Mirkwood.”

 

That is a painful slight in itself; she is no longer of Mirkwood or the Greenwood that was. Her King’s banishment holds. She is the only Elf left in Erebor or near Dale. The Dwarf’s words are meant to wound but Tauriel’s expression is composed. Even now, banished from her home, from all she has known, Tauriel will not set aside her Elvishness.

 

There is a nod from the Dwarf who has spoken and Tauriel nods back before striding towards the throne. There are so many Dwarves; she does not try to remember them all. She feels truly bereft without her sword, bow and arrows but they were all taken from her weeks before. It is an insult to a warrior to force disarmament and King Thorin knows it.

 

She focuses on the platform where King Thorin sits. He sits on the throne with his sister Princess Dis beside him and on his other side Prince Fili and his wife Princess Sigrid. Sigrid is the only one who smiles and it is only a small measured smile. It is expected, from a Daughter of Men.

 

Her hand is enfolded by one of Fili’s and she wears a blue dress more richly made than any Tauriel saw her wear in Dale. But the neck is modest and there are none of the heavily-jewelled flashes that Dwarves are so fond of. She wears only simple rings on her fingers and two necklaces. Sigrid is not showing off. Her father would be pleased.

 

Tauriel does not gaze overly long on anyone. She does not look at Kili, though she has not seen him since arriving at the Mountain, since she was first locked in Erebor’s dungeon and then permitted to live on a higher level, a small suite of rooms there was merely another prison. She has not attempted to escape once.

 

She comes to a halt directly in front of King Thorin’s throne. The Dwarves clustered closest to the platform are his council; she recognises some as those who were in Dale with the princes. They bear the marks of battle now, as Fili and Kili do. She can tell from her peripheral vision that Kili is able to sit up straight, that both his eyes are open despite heavy scarring, that no one is holding him up. Behind her measured manners, she is relieved to a depth she has not known before and greatly comforted. It is something great to hold to. She keeps her eyes fixed on King Thorin.

 

She waits again. She is not to speak until the King bids her to. This, she is used to. Even as a child in his household, she knew she was the last concern of King Thranduil and should behave so. King Thorin is staring at her coldly. She does not meet his gaze; she will not challenge him. She stares just over his shoulder, awaiting the right word or gesture. She has heard things in her prisons, as Dwarves pass her door, talking of the Dwarven court, of mistakes made by visitors and Dwarf alike and the offences caused. Sometimes she is sure words have been said and conversations held deliberately for her to hear, because she has heard references to a firemoon, framed in a way that speaks of Kili’s direction.

 

She knows if she moves her gaze only a little, it will touch Bilbo Baggins, the Hobbit so beloved by King Thorin and his kin and one she is certain she has heard outside her door, his voice so different to any Dwarf’s. Tauriel does not to look at him.

 

Finally, King Thorin beckons for her to start and Tauriel bows neatly from her waist upwards, her hair hanging long before her. She holds the bow for some moments before straightening again.

 

“Hail to Thorin, King Under the Mountain.”

 

Her voice is clear and carries well enough to be heard throughout the great hall. Now her gaze moves finally to Princess Dis. “To Princess Dis of Erebor, Prince Fili of Erebor and Princess Sigrid of Erebor and Dale, and Prince Kili of Erebor.”

 

They all nod at her greeting and Sigrid smiles quietly, an encouragement. Tauriel takes silent comfort in that too; truly she did not spend long in Laketown but the kindness of its daughter is something that feels of great meaning before the Dwarven court. Sigrid must have had such an audience too.

 

King Thorin waits a moment as though considering her greeting – there is no fault to be found in it, though he will not admit that for sure. Tauriel used correct titles and spoke them in the correct order. She had not shaded any of them with upset, anger or affection. She had been respectful and true. King Thorin is unlikely to be pleased by her correctness.

 

Her gaze is on him once more and sure enough his cold visage has broken to become a pronounced frown. She does not smile, she does not mock. She waits. Her heart is still running privately fast. She wishes to gaze on Kili, to see his eyes open once more. But she will not jeopardise him. She will not be banished again for love.

 

“You entered my kingdom,” King Thorin states at last.

 

His tone is curt and already Tauriel can hear the anger banking, awaiting a spark. He is more like a dragon than he will ever admit to. Wilful blindness is a Dwarven curse. It can be an Elvish one too.

 

“You brought my nephew here, near death. You threatened my people. You made to kill my kin. This is the charge brought to you; your own people abandoned you for it.”

 

Tauriel does not colour, she does not flinch. Her eyes do not widen. She knows already about the charges – King Thorin cannot shock her. There were other words spoken outside her door, by Dwarven guards laughing about the Elf in a stone dungeon. They sought to cause her pain, discussing what might happen to her and talked of the Dwarven maids Kili could marry now that his mother, the great Princess Dis, has arrived. A good match could be made. Tauriel still has a pebble, a rune promise. No Dwarven maid has such a gift.

 

Did Kili believe these charges? The talk of firemoons refuses this. Tauriel holds to this too.

 

There is noise around her now as the Dwarves murmur their outrage at an Elf striking such an attack against the Durin line. Tauriel does not lower her head. King Thorin is still looking at her, so is his family, so is Kili. Her heart does not run slower but she waits. She will not speak out of turn, a response will not be elected from her as easily as one is goaded from a Man. Surely King Thorin knows this; it is another painful attack on her as he knows full well she will endure it and say nothing. Her face does not change; she will not fuel his words.

 

“And what do you say, Captain Tauriel?”

 

The King’s voice curls with malicious mocking around her rank but Tauriel merely bows again, causing another murmur, before she begins. She has had much time to think on this.

 

“King Thranduil of the Greenwood did not care for the suffering of Men and Dwarves.”

 

“And you did?”

 

The malicious mocking was still present. Tauriel dips her head in agreement.

 

“Not when we could staunch it. I drew my bow on my King and we did not leave the battle. I sought Prince Kili, a promise lay between us that I wished to see fulfilled. He fell to prevent my fall.”

 

Here Tauriel pauses, images from her words unstopper through her mind – Kili so brutally dealt with, surely slain, how she could not prevent it, the feeling then of how helpless immortality was when it could not be shared. Tauriel presses her lips together; a deliberate motion and also real. There is a murmur before she continues, as King Thorin has not stopped her.

 

“He was breathing still and while his brother and his king were attended to, I took him to the Mountain he had sought. I waited in the healing rooms and assisted the healer there until I was taken to the dungeons of Erebor, awaiting your presence.”

 

She bows again and waits. There is only a brief moment of noise before Dis spoke.

 

“You saved my son before, I am told. In the town of Dale.”

 

Tauriel bows to her, not as low as she bowed to King Thorin. Dis is clad in night; wearing a dark purple gown and breeches beneath that are darker still, with finely-laced leather gauntlets and a cloak pinned with a clasp of beautifully-set black gemstones. Her dark hair and beard are laced with braiding and beads, topped by a silver coronet set with more black gems. Her gaze matches them. This is likely Tauriel’s hardest judge, even more so than the King. Tauriel has never had a mother.

 

“King Bard of Dale offered shelter while Prince Kili was in need of healing from an Orc attack. I administered aid.”

 

There are louder mutterings now about bewitchment and poisoning and still Tauriel does not move. It is Prince Fili who speaks now, his tone even and light but not without formality.

 

“I was there. She saved my brother’s life; it would have brought her only admonishment or worse from her King. Yet still she chose to save Prince Kili.”

 

Sigrid nods here and at a flick of King Thorin’s hand, she speaks too. “Captain Tauriel helped my family live that night; the legacy of Dale’s royalty survived because of her and the other Elves.”

 

Prince Fili squeezes her hand and Sigrid’s smile grows; they appear well-matched, a partnership. Sigrid is touched by womanhood now and it suits her. Part of her hair is thickly braided and wrapped around the rest. There is a blue ribbon wound into it.

 

“Eleven magic to ensure Dale and Erebor’s line owed debts to the Elves,” is King Thorin’s opinion.

 

Tauriel does not even shake her head or clench a finger. She speaks evenly when permitted.

 

“I wish Prince Kili no harm. Healer Oin worked beside me in Dale and oversaw Prince Kili’s healing in the Mountain.”

 

Oin is amongst the Dwarves at Tauriel’s left and he moves forwards a few steps, a trumpet to his ear. He is old, looking older than most Tauriel has met but his eyes are bright and she has witnessed him manage healing and care in the Mountain with deftness and skill. Age is an illusion.

 

“It was healing well done. A way different to ours but the lad was able to fight, to stand as a Durin when called upon. I’ve tested him, of course, and he remains Prince Kili, no more addled than before her help.”

 

Prince Fili smiles at that and King Thorin nods Oin away. He looked at Tauriel and allows her to continue.

 

“There are no debts to the Elves; I swear it on the Mountain.”

 

There is surprise at that and both Dis and King Thorin scrutinise her with their gazes. She has spoken something most particularly Dwarven. Tauriel’s posture does not change, even when Dis speaks next.

 

“You remain banished by the Elves.”

 

Tauriel does not hesitate. “I did not obey the King, and I valued the life of a Dwarf over my own.”

 

Dis’s eyebrows move upwards, challenging. She has an axe on her belt and a sword at her side. Tauriel misses her own blades but her fingers do not curl.

 

“Valued?” Dis asks pointedly, as though she has found a foothold.

 

“Valued and value still,” Tauriel responded.

 

“And what form does this value take?”

 

They seek to embarrass her, to make her so discomforted that she will refuse to answer or deny what led her to bring Kili to the Mountain. They seek to make light of what Tauriel feels, of all that lies wrecked behind her since she and Kili first met. They seek to make her look and feel foolish. She does not.

 

It is not the manner of Elves, to give voice to so much. But Tauriel is amongst Dwarves now, in the court of a Dwarven King, and if she wishes to remain here but free of their prisons, she must harness the quality of Elves and Dwarves both, the quality that caused her and Kili to wonder together at the memory a firemoon.

 

“It is a bond and a promise. It does not yet have a name.”

 

There is a stirring and Tauriel does not look at Kili but she can sense him shifting in his seat. She waits. Dis speaks again.

 

“You spoke of a promise twice. What is it?”

 

This will be a deep rendering of a moment shared but it had not been private, as Laketown had been destroyed and Men wailed in men. There had been no chance to make it a secret. Tauriel pauses only for the span of a breath, then she withdraws a pebble from a belt pouch. She holds it on an open palm. She sees Dis’ eyes widen as she leans forward to gaze at the pebble, then at her youngest son.

 

“A promise that he would come back alive. I did all I could to see him fulfil it.”

 

Dis is still looking at Kili who is likely looking back. Tauriel focuses on Dis.

 

Dis finally looks back towards Tauriel. Her gaze is something new to the Elf. What does it mean? Dis only nods and Tauriel slips away the pebble. It is a comforting weight at her side. King Thorin too looks at her. Tauriel can feel her hair trembling slightly under the power of so many keen breaths. She does not stand like she is ready to fight; she stands only like she is listening. She is always ready to fight.

 

“You have no King and no home.” King Thorin states cruelly. “Yet you stand here, believing yourself worthy of a Durin heir.”

 

“No, Your Grace,” she replies, firm and implacable. She has thought on this for many days, searching for the right words for this moment. After guarding them for such a span, she releases them now from a trembling heart and steady body. “I know I am not. I stand here because I wish for a name for the value between us. And I do not wish for it to end.”

 

It is not something she is used to. But she thinks of Kili on the grey sand, telling her something in his strange language which echoed so deeply inside of her. It is her time to step forward now. There is a quietness in the great hall, shocked perhaps. But neither King Thorin nor Princess Dis speak. It is Prince Fili who speaks now.

 

“Dale's King trusted her with his heirs when the world was falling down on them.”

 

Here, Sigrid nods, her smile unchanging. Tauriel gathers that. She sets it into her bones (with the pebble and with words beyond her door and the firemoon) and keeps her gaze from Kili.

 

“Daughter,” Princess Dis speaks, looking towards Sigrid. Another slight for Tauriel. “Your father put his trust in her.”

 

“He did. And while he now holds an alliance with King Thranduil, I’m sure his trust in Tauriel holds still.”

 

King Bard has an alliance with King Thranduil? Tauriel considers this silently. King Thorin nods slightly and then turns towards Kili with an air of inevitable regret, with the kind of disappointment Tauriel recognises from her former Elven King.

 

“And you still wish this She-Elf’s presence?”

 

Now is the moment when Tauriel may look at Kili. He is dressed all in black, including a fur cloak, and one leg is positioned awkwardly. His face is truly heavily scarred and Tauriel is sure from the way it is folded that he cannot use his left arm as well as he used to. There is a single fine braid in his hair, bound with a silver bead. She knows its meaning, words she has gleaned echo now from memory, and knows that she wishes to wear its twin. It is something else to stay silent, but only for now. He seems taller somehow and graver but there is a glint in his eyes that Tauriel recognises even from their goodbye at the grey sand. She gathers that too and does not look away.

 

Her heart is doing something strange now. She will not be distracted. She will stand still and show no fatigue. It is what is required.

 

Kili looks towards her; his gaze locked with hers. Her heart continues to behave strangely, truly it only becomes stranger. Tauriel does not mind the feeling. She knows it is because of Kili, she wonders if he feels something like it which might account for the glint in his eyes.

 

He lives and so does she and they are before the Dwarven court, the most serious circumstance for either of them by Dwarven law. She does not waver. If there is a glint in her eyes too, she hopes it is clear to him. She cannot share a smile with him yet.

 

Kili’s eyes are warm. It is impossible but it is as though Tauriel can feel that warmth, inside. It is impossible. Kili smiles and the warmth increases. Tauriel does not move an inch but still Kili smiles.

 

“Oh, I wish it.”

 

The warmth feels like it’s reaching every part of her, even as King Thorin says.

 

“Though your years will not match hers and the Elves’ curse?”

 

The Elves’ curse, immortality. It is a reminder; that Tauriel will live long after Kili has gone. But she has always known this. She will carry that and their bond when only one of them remains. She will carry all she knows that live beneath the Mountain and in Dale. She still does not move and her gaze does not waver. Kili nods.

 

“Though we will part and meet again.”

 

Yes, they will. Tauriel still does not smile but she thinks of doing so and sees Kili’s expression flicker as though his gaze is chasing something. The warmth is part of her bones now, with all she has gathered. She notes the way Kili’s scars bend with his expression. Dwarves wear their scars proudly, trophies of survival and bravery in battle. Elves record theirs in books and in ballads written. There are some that Tauriel favoured. Legolas had correctly guessed two. There are some Kili would like, she is sure. She intends to share them with him.

 

King Thorin looks at Tauriel and after several long moments, silently extends a hand, palm down. He will not welcome this, at any stage. He will not approve and support but he will allow Tauriel to stay in the Mountain. That is what the gesture means; that she will now have to accept him as her King. It is another test – if an Elf will accept a Dwarf in such a position.

 

Tauriel’s heart is behaving entirely differently now. Her eyes glint and perhaps widen but she does not hesitate. She knows King Thorin has been cruel and behaved like a tyrant. She knows King Thranduil has too. She knows that Kili and his brother tried to stop their Uncle and so did Bilbo Baggins, almost to the cost of his life. She knows she will stay here, under stone, not because she has nowhere else to call home (there are many Elves that would welcome her) but because her choice is Kili, the bond and promise they share, the warmth and treasures in her bones and Kili’s eyes. Because she has been moved by Kili and by those around him that have secretly aided her.

 

Because she has had much time to think and this still truly is what she wants.

 

So she bows steadily and correctly, holding herself perfectly still for a moment before approaching the throne’s platform. She keeps her eyes on King Thorin and walks up steps until she is before him. There, she takes his hand and bows over it. He is wearing several heavily-jewelled rings, one marks him as the Durin heir, another as King Under the Mountain. One day Prince Fili will wear them.

 

Tauriel lets go of his hand and turns to Princess Dis who also offers a hand, her gaze fixed on Tauriel, a warning, never a welcome. Her rings are as jewelled as her brother’s and there are several necklaces draped around her neck and bracelets around her wrists, all matching in colour and style. Tauriel bows over Princess Dis’ hand. This remains her harshest judge, she thinks Princess Dis always will be. She moves on.

 

She bows over Prince Fili's hand. He nods and the corners of his mouth jump up for the slightest moment. Sigrid is still smiling when Tauriel takes her hand – it is slimmer than any Dwarves but with a roughness all of its own from the labour she has known since birth. She squeezes Tauriel’s fingers and smiles, appearing happy side by side with Prince Fili, both bearing great responsibility even while absent from the throne.

 

Finally Tauriel stands in front of Kili. He offers his hand without hesitation and he looks at her as though what he is seeing is greater than even the firemoon. Tauriel takes his hand and bows over it before pressing her lips to the backs of his fingers. Her heart has returned to strange behaviour, she straightens out and releases his hand. Her fingers feel empty.

 

Quickly she returns to King Thorin and takes a knee before him. There is a murmur – this is not Dwarven. No, but this is right. Tauriel wishes again for her bow and sword. She lifts her head enough to be heard.

 

“I pledge to thee, Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, that my sword and bow will rise in your name, that my eyes will seek your way, and that my feet will walk your path, until your shining halls.”

 

There is a shocked silence as Tauriel rises gracefully and bows once more, stepping down from the platform without once taking her eyes from King Thorin’s face. She can see out of the corner of her eye that Kili’s expression has changed – he is smiling.

 

“That is an Elven promise?” Princess Dis guesses.

 

“The oath I swore when I became Captain of the Guard in the Greenwood,” Tauriel confirms.

 

“An Elven oath...” King Thorin does not look entirely offended, he also looks thoughtful. He can hear what lies unspoken between Tauriel's words. “Has it been said by any race but Elves?”

 

“No, Your Grace. it is an oath given when every Elf in the Greenwood comes of age.”

 

An Elven oath, spoken to a Dwarven King. King Thranduil, should he ever hear of it, would be furious. He would be distracted. King Thorin looks malevolently pleased. Tauriel has heard that negotiations with the Elves have not been fruitful of late. It is only right that her King is well armed.

 

Princess Dis has another new look in her eyes, trained on Tauriel. King Thorin has likely heard an insult he can speak against the Elf he still hates, Princess Dis has heard a feint for a fight. Tauriel does not look self-satisfied. She does not relax. She has not been dismissed yet.

 

“Leave us. Reduce her guard and return her weapons. I expect you to prove your worth with them, Captain, against my warriors tomorrow. Then perhaps you can see more of the Mountain than your walls.”

 

It is an insult and a challenge, a demonstration of his power over her. But it is also a chance for Tauriel to win her freedom. This is a challenge Tauriel can meet well. The King did not see her during the battle and ability with a sword is prized by Dwarves. Tauriel will not disappoint him. She bows her head now.

 

“Yes, Your Grace.”

 

She bows her head to each of the royal party, lingering for a moment when nodding to Kili. It is expected now and his eyes are glinting again. She is getting used to her heart's strange behaviour, she wishes to grow used to it further still. She wishes to see more of Kili. She impresses upon herself his visage, how he looks back at her, how he touches the silver bead at the end of his braid.

 

She turns and is presented with her bow (but no arrows) and her swords. For a moment she holds them, then she refits her scabbards across her back and hooks the bow over her shoulder. Her swords are unlike any a Dwarf would forge and her bow is unlike Kili's. She is an Elf under a Dwarven Mountain, still a prisoner. It remains her choice.

 

She meets King Thorin's gaze. He nods and she turns sharply to walk with measured steps out of the great hall and back to her rooms. She knows every Dwarf is watching her, Kili included. Her heart's behaviour is welcome. When the doors shut behind her, she smiles.

 

_-the end_

 


End file.
